


The Stallion in the Forest

by GracefulLioness



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, F/M, Fairytale fest, Happily Ever After, Horror, enchanted forest, fairytale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 09:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefulLioness/pseuds/GracefulLioness
Summary: After falling asleep while reading in the forest, Hermione gets lost after dark and stumbles upon a curious man living alone in a hut deep in the woods. But nothing is as it seems in this forest. She will soon discover that the man, the hut, and his beautiful stallion hold more secrets than she ever thought imaginable.





	The Stallion in the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one shot created for TheMourningMadam's Fairytale Fest based on The Hut in the Forest.
> 
> A million thanks to BiscuitsForPotter for making this story what it is. I had such terrible writer's block with this one, and I genuinely could not have completed this without her encouragement and help. Thanks for pushing me and being the best cheerleader! 
> 
> Enjoy!

_ The smell of honeysuckle and wild orchids. _

_ The feel of sunshine. _

_ The sound of bumblebees. _

Hermione’s senses returned to her gradually as her eyes fluttered open. The lush, green canopy of trees stretched out above her and she blinked. Sitting up, she found her book lying open next to her. 

_ Must have fallen asleep reading. _

She rolled her stiff neck and stood up. The shadows in the forest were getting long, signalling the impending sunset. She’d best be getting home before dark. Closing and placing her book in her bag, she shook out her skirts and petticoats, and set off down the path. 

Judging by the low level of the sun, she only had a few more moments of daylight before dusk. She walked quickly, not wanting to be caught in these woods after dark. There were tales… she had heard whispers of them in town. Tales of young women going missing in this forest. Ghastly tales of girls being snatched by nefarious characters and kept in dark dungeons for the rest of their days. It was no more than gossip really, but she still thought it best to be cautious. 

Being a person of logic, she understood how these rumors had started. The trees were thick and the path was narrow. In places it was nearly impossible to follow the trail as it wound through the trees. She guessed that most of the rumors were spread to discourage women from wandering in the forest alone, but Hermione had always been very independent. Besides, the forest was beautiful and there were so many spots ideal for reading. 

Hermione walked for several minutes, her feet carrying her faster as the light grew more and more dim around her. Had she missed her turn? Was this the same path she had followed in? The trees should be thinning now, but they seemed to be getting thicker. 

Yes, this was almost certainly the wrong way. She turned back, eyes sweeping over the thick undergrowth of the forest floor. Her stomach clenched painfully as she realized something dreadful: while she had followed a trail where there was no growth, it was not the path. 

_ Breathe. _

She backtracked, treading carefully through the brush in search of the trail. The sun had set and it was getting quite dark now. 

_ Breathe. _

She walked for several minutes in the other direction before the darkness enveloped her wholly so that she could hardly even make out her feet. Looking up, the sky above her was growing purple with twilight and the only light in the forest was provided by the twinkling of fireflies. 

_ Lost. _

_ Panic. _

Why had she left her wand at home? It hadn’t seemed necessary to take it when she’d left the house this morning. A quick trip into the forest to do a bit of light reading shouldn’t have warranted the use of magic. 

_ Foolish. _

She stood for some time, hoping against hope that her eyes would adjust to the darkness, or perhaps that a light might appear to guide her home. 

A howl in the distance sent a chill down her spine. Wolves? _ Werewolves? _

No, not werewolves. Surely a full moon would have granted her a bit more light. Still, wolves were frightening enough on their own. How far could she climb a tree in this corset? 

She hadn’t climbed a tree since her childhood. It wasn’t proper for ladies her age to behave in such a way. 

Something rustled in the brush to her left and she stumbled away, panic blooming in her core. 

_ Breathe. _

She moved carefully through the trees, keeping her hands in front of her to feel for obstacles. 

Without the use of her eyes, her other senses worked hard to get her bearings. 

_ Rough bark against her fingertips. _

_ Summer insects singing. _

_ Frogs croaking. _

_ The smell of earth. _

_ The smell of roast chicken. _

She stopped abruptly. Chicken? She sniffed, sure that her nose was mistaken. No, she definitely smelled roasted chicken. She looked around, straining her eyes for anything out of the ordinary. 

Just fireflies and darkness. No, not just fireflies. _ Fire light _. 

Far in the distance was the flickering glow of a fire through a small window. 

There, just through the trees was a small hut. 

Stumbling over roots, she made her way toward the tiny cottage. Her long skirts caught on brambles and she nearly turned her ankle in her boots, but she didn’t dare stop. She only hoped that the occupant of the home was hospitable enough to allow her to stay the night. 

Another rustle behind her had her quickening her steps again. She was getting closer. The smell of a freshly cooked meal was growing stronger. 

At last, she burst into a clearing. There was a small, moss-covered hut here. Two levels high, yet much too small to house more than two people at the most. Light was streaming through the open windows and illuminating the clearing. To her right was a modest stable and a fenced in paddock. She made to walk up the cobblestone path toward the door but stopped short. 

There, in the paddock, staring at her, was a great stallion. All white, with a mane and tail of shimmering silver. 

Her breath hitched in her throat. Hardly meaning to, her feet carried her over to the fence. She held out her hand. The horse didn’t move, he merely regarded her as if he knew she did not belong. 

Hesitantly, she stroked the stallion’s nose. “Hello,” she breathed. “Are you friendly?” 

As if in answer, the horse let out a gentle snort and nestled its snout against her hand. 

Her love of animals was a source of some ridicule from her friends. Growing up, she had always snuck away to the stables after dinner to spend time with the animals. The other girls at her finishing school had teased her for it, but she just couldn’t stay away from the gentle creatures. 

This horse was very curious. She had never seen one so still. His eyes watched her with a quality that seemed almost...human. But surely that couldn’t be. 

“Who are you?” 

She jumped a mile high and wheeled around, her hand flying to her pounding heart. 

There was an elderly man in the doorway of the hut. He had a long grey beard and leaned on a twisted walking stick, which he gripped tightly in one of his bony hands. His stare was cautious, but not angry at her presence. 

“I’m sorry to intrude. My name is Hermione Granger. I got lost in the forest and saw the light from your window. I had hoped to seek shelter for the night.” 

The man’s eyes flickered between her and the horse. Perhaps he thought she had intended to steal it. After a moment of apparent deliberation, the man grunted. “Come in.” 

Hermione picked up her skirts to hurry up the path. She followed the man into the hut and he closed the door behind her. 

The room was small and warm, but a cool summer breeze drifted in through the open windows. Two wooden chairs surrounded a tiny kitchen table. There was a lumpy sofa mere steps away. A fire roared in the hearth, heating a small cauldron filled with a hearty-looking stew. Her stomach growled. 

“Are you hungry?” asked the man, ladling stew into a bowl. 

“Yes. Thank you.” She looked out the window to the paddock, where the stallion was still staring at her. “Your horse is beautiful. What’s his name?”

The man grumbled as he set the bowl down on the table rather roughly, sloshing stew over the sides. “He hasn’t got one.” 

Hermione blinked. “Oh,” she stammered. “Well, he’s quite lovely.” 

She shifted her weight uncomfortably for a moment, watching the man shuffle around the tiny room. There was a bucket of grain near the door. He lifted it with great effort and made to exit the house. 

“Please,” Hermione stopped him. She couldn’t stand to see this man struggle to feed his beautiful horse. “Let me,” she offered. 

“You don’t have to—” 

“No, it would be my pleasure. Really.” 

Ignoring his stunned surprise, she took the bucket from him. 

As she exited the hut, the horse trotted over to her. She spotted the trough and emptied the bucket into it. The stallion regarded her with curiosity for a moment before bowing his head to eat. She reached out and gently stroked him between the ears before returning to the hut with the bucket. 

“Thank you,” the man intoned as she sat at the table. 

“Don’t mention it. I love animals, you see.” She smiled warmly at him before taking a delicate bite of her stew. It was a bit flavourless and it scalded her tongue, but she was in no position to complain about the meal, especially when she had rudely intruded on this man’s evening. 

They ate in relative silence. When they had both finished, Hermione offered to clear the table and wash up. She could feel the man’s eyes on her as she scrubbed out the bowls in the wash basin. 

“There’s a bed upstairs. It isn’t much, but it will keep you out of the forest for the evening,” the man said gruffly. 

Hermione dried her hands on a damp wash rag. “Thank you.” 

“Horse needs to be stabled for the night,” he said, frowning at the door. 

“I’ll do it,” she offered at once. 

“You’ve done plenty already.” 

“Please,” she implored. “You’ve been so kind to me. Let me help.” 

A slight smile crossed the old man’s face, almost a smirk. “Very well.” 

The stable was dark, save for the lantern the old man had given her. The horse had followed her here quite peacefully. She had hardly had to pull on his reigns. Once secured in the stable, she removed the stallion’s bridle and saddle. He let out an appreciative winny and Hermione laughed. This horse certainly seemed to have a big personality. 

Hermione stroked his neck. “You should have a name,” she mused softly. “Do you two get lonely out here all alone?” 

The horse tossed his head slightly, his silver mane catching the light of the lantern. 

“Perhaps I could come visit you again some time. Would you like that?” 

A winny, followed by an affectionate nuzzling at her neck.

Hermione grinned, her heart filling with joy. He was certainly unlike any horse she had ever seen before. She wasn’t sure if it was possible, but he seemed to understand her words. “Alright then. I’ll see you again.” 

She left the stable then and made her way back to the tiny hut. The man had set up the upstairs bed for her. Not daring to undress in a strange man’s home, she merely loosened the laces on her corset to allow herself a bit more comfort, and then laid down on the bed fully clothed. The mattress was hard and lumpy. She tossed and turned for several moments before drifting into a fitful sleep at last. 

~*~*~

Hermione dreamt of the stallion that night. A white horse galloped past her through the forest. She ran to follow, her feet pounding against the path, her lungs screaming for air. At a fork in the path the horse stopped, its magnificent head turning to look into her eyes. 

She blinked and the horse was gone. Where he had been just moments before, a man now stood. Tall and imposing, he walked toward her with calm, sure steps. She tried to focus on his face, but it was cast into shadow. 

Suddenly, the forest was trembling around them. Trees toppled, sunlight burst through the canopy, and rocks split. The earth opened up, swallowing her whole. 

~*~*~

Hermione woke with a start. The hut was shaking. Its walls rumbled and quaked. In terror, she leapt from the bed and ran for the stairs. Stumbling down them into the living area, she looked around frantically for the old man. fearful that the tiny house would collapse on top of them both. But a sweeping look around the room proved that he was nowhere to be seen. Making a split-second decision, she wrenched the door open and burst out into the forest clearing. 

The sun was rising in the distance and a pink glow fell over the woods. Heart pounding wildly, Hermione turned to see the hut was changing, growing. No longer a tiny cottage, it was rapidly becoming a sizable manor. 

No, not a manor. Something far more grandiose. It rose from the earth like a mountain, shaking the ground beneath her. 

At last, the trembling stopped, and a gleaming stone castle stood before her. What was the meaning of this? She was no stranger to magic. She was a witch, after all. But watching a castle appear from nowhere was not something that one encountered every day, even in the wizarding world. 

Hermione continued to stare at the castle for a few moments, taking it all in, before a horrific thought passed her mind.

_ The stallion. What had happened to him? _

With a jolt, she ran for the stable. The horse had to have been spooked by the great metamorphosis that had just taken place. Carefully opening the door, she expected to see a frightened animal huddled in a corner or bucking violently. 

But there was no animal inside the stable. Not anymore.

Instead, there stood a man. The young man within, with his tattered clothes and long white blonde hair made her reel backwards. He turned and his eyes settled on her. “You,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. He stumbled over to her on shaking legs. “You broke the spell.” 

Hermione stepped backwards. “Spell?” 

The man stopped a few paces from her, his silver eyes taking in the sight of her. “Are you a witch?” he asked. 

Hermione eyed him cautiously. Admitting it to the wrong person meant imprisonment or death. One couldn’t be too careful. On the other hand, she had just seen a hut turn into a castle. 

“It’s alright, I’m a wizard,” he confessed. “Actually, I’m an animagus too,” he explained. 

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Ooh! I’ve read about animagi!” She had never encountered one in real life. 

“I was cursed by my father to remain trapped in my animagus form until I found a woman he deemed worthy of me,” he elaborated. 

Brows furrowed, Hermione shook her head. “Why would he do that?” she asked. 

“He grew tired of the sort of women who vied for my affections. Most were shallow, cruel to animals. Only charming to me as a means to attain a marriage proposal.” 

Hermione was still confused. None of this made any sense to her at all. How had no one noticed the sudden lack of a castle in the forest if there had been one before? “Who are you?” she asked, backing further away from the man. 

The man smiled and bowed his head to her slightly. “My name is Draco. I am heir to the throne of this kingdom. My mother was Queen. After her death, my father acted as king regent until I came of age. He tried during that time to find me an acceptable bride, but found no one. On my eighteenth birthday, he cursed me before I could take the throne. I have been trapped in my animagus form for two years.” 

Hermione shook her head. “This kingdom has no monarch.” 

“You only think that because of the curse. My father’s magic has stretched across the land, bewitching everyone to forget us. Otherwise everyone would have come looking for us, you see,” the animagus explained. 

A sudden thought had Hermione gripping the door frame for support. “But some people did find you, didn’t they? Like I did. In the village, there are stories of young women going missing in this forest.” She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “What happened to them?” 

Draco’s eyes darkened. “There were others, yes. They were unkind and selfish. They were uncaring of me, and so my father had them imprisoned in the dungeon.” 

“Imprisoned…” gasped Hermione. 

“They were unworthy,” came a dark voice from behind her. She wheeled around to see a tall man with long, white-blond hair. The old man… his disguise lifted now. He still carried his same walking stick, but Hermione got the distinct impression that it was more of an accessory now, rather than a necessity. His beard was gone, but the same penetrating eyes observed her intently. “Not like you, my dear.” He walked closer to her, taking in her appearance steadily before turning to his son. “Is she a witch?” 

Draco nodded stiffly. 

The man grinned. “Splendid. Now you can take your rightful place as king.” 

“King…” Hermione muttered. What did her being a witch have to do with Draco’s ascension to the throne? 

“Where are the others, Lucius?” Draco asked evenly. 

“The dungeons,” the man said simply. “They have been well cared for. Some of them may have even learned their lesson.” 

Draco didn’t reply. He stood very still, pale eyes regarding his father thoughtfully. 

“Oh, my son,” sighed Lucius. “I am sorry I had to take such drastic steps. I had to be sure that you found someone who was worthy of your affections. Don’t you see that this was the only way?” 

With a blink, Draco smiled. “Of course, Father. Thank you for ensuring that I didn’t fall for the tricks of any of those wicked women.” He stepped forward with a smirk that made Hermione shiver. “You have always had my best interests at heart.” 

This man was as wicked as his father. Hermione needed to run, but they were blocking the door. Even if she could get out of the stables, she surely would not be able to escape. She didn’t have her wand and Draco could turn into a horse and outrun her easily. 

The two men embraced briefly before Lucius pulled away to smile proudly at his son. 

“Do you have my wand, father?” asked Draco. 

Lucius reached into his robes and withdrew a hawthorn wand. He handed it to Draco ceremoniously. 

The prince grasped the wand firmly in his hand. “Thank you father.” 

In a flash, the smile slipped from his face and he trained his wand on Lucius. “_ Incarcerous _,” he hissed. 

Magical bonds sprung from Draco’s wand and wrapped themselves around the surprised man. With a disarming spell, Lucius’ wand flew from his pocket and into Draco’s hand.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius demanded. “Release me!” 

“I’m sorry Father,” intoned Draco. “But your actions are treasonous. Bewitching your entire kingdom simply to find the future king a suitable bride… truly despicable. Imprisoning three young ladies as well. Unforgivable. You will be placed in jail. After your sentence, you will be stripped of your titles and exiled from the kingdom never to return under pain of death.” 

The king regent’s eyes filled with fear. “You cannot do this! I am your father,” he spat. 

With a flick of Draco’s wand, Lucius was silenced. The man strained against his bonds, his mouth open in a vicious scream that would never be heard. 

The king-to-be turned back to Hermione then. “I apologize about all of this,” he said, gesturing to Lucius. “Are you alright?”

Hermione’s head was spinning. Her eyes flickered between Draco and his father several times before nodding hesitantly. 

“Please, stay here,” Draco urged, moving forward to take hold of one of her shaking hands. “I am going to escort my father to the dungeons and release his captives. I would also like to lift the other spells he cast over the kingdom. When I return, I would like very much for us to talk.” 

Hermione nodded, barely able to wrap her mind around this entire situation. Mere minutes ago she had been asleep in a tiny hut and now she was witnessing the unravelling of a massive royal conspiracy. 

“Will you stay?” asked Draco, his blue eyes sparkling kindly. 

“I… I have to go home soon. My family must be so worried about me,” she lamented. 

“I’ll escort you,” he offered. “Just give me ten minutes to sort this out… Please.” 

“Yes, alright,” Hermione agreed. 

Draco grinned. “Wonderful. I’ll be right back.” 

Hermione waited for several minutes as Draco escorted Lucius out of the stables and back toward the castle. She followed them outside and watched them disappear behind the massive doors and then passed the time admiring the grand, detailed architecture of the palace. 

After a moment, a small spark of recognition struck her like waking up slowly after a long sleep. This castle wasn’t so unfamiliar after all. Perhaps she even recalled some stories from many years ago. Stories about a beautiful, righteous Queen and her son. Stories she had long since forgotten. 

The castle doors open and three girls in tattered skirts ambled out, blinking in the sunlight. Draco followed, speaking in a low, apologetic voice. Three house elves appeared out of thin air. Hermione hardly had time to wonder where they had all been for all these years before they each took a girl by the hand and disappeared. 

Draco ran a hand over his face in frustration and let out a sigh, but quickly broke into a smile when he saw Hermione watching him. He strode over to her and took hold of both of her hands. “I’ll go to each of those girls’ homes personally later today to explain and apologize. After that we can begin our preparations,” he said with a smile. 

“Preparations for what?” Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“For the wedding, of course.” 

“Wedding!” Hermione balked. 

“Well yes,” Draco hesitated. “You broke the spell, and now you and I will be married.” 

Without meaning to, Hermione laughed out loud. “Married? But we don’t know each other at all!” 

The king’s brow furrowed, as if the idea of knowing his future bride was not something he had ever considered before this moment. 

The smile fell from Hermione’s face. Perhaps Draco had never thought of marrying for love as being a possibility for him. Maybe he had simply always known that he would marry the woman that his parents deemed worthy. 

“Listen,” she said kindly. “I’m not saying _ ‘no’ _.”

Draco’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re not?” 

She shook her head. “I guess I’m just saying _ ‘not yet.’ _”

“Not _ yet _ ?” Draco frowned. “I have spent two years trapped in my horse form just waiting for a woman to break the spell. And now you’re here and you want to _ wait _?” 

Hermione pulled her hands away from his and stepped back. “Perhaps you were waiting, but I only just met you yesterday. As a horse, mind you. I happened to stumble upon you and this whole situation completely by accident.” 

“I hardly consider it an accident,” he scoffed, looking decidedly pouty for royalty. “We are meant to be.” 

“_ Please _.” Hermione sighed. “We hardly know each other. I’d be far more amenable if we took the time to become better acquainted. Perhaps if you agreed to a courtship—”

Draco smiled slightly. “You’d like to be courted?” 

“Is that so strange?” Hermione asked with a shrug. “Then, after a time, if we truly like one another, perhaps…”

“So…” Draco tilted his head to the side, observing her with curiosity. “You want to know me? Who I really am?” 

“Of course I do.” 

Draco grinned at her. “Alright,” he agreed with a nod. “Where do we begin?”

“A proper introduction, perhaps?” Hermione suggested. 

With a smirk, Draco tilted his head forward in a small, formal bow. “Draco Malfoy, heir to the throne.” 

Hermione sank into her well-practiced curtsey. “Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.” 

~*~*~

“How much further?” Draco grumbled, ambling up the wooded path behind her. 

“Not far,” Hermione sang. She glanced over her shoulder, suppressing a laugh at his flushed face and grimace. 

“You know,” he huffed. “I could give you a ride and we could get there in half the time.” 

“Where’s the fun in that? Besides, I thought you wouldn’t want to use your animagus form after what you’ve been through.” 

“I don’t. But right now that seems far preferable to continuing this bloody hike.” He swatted angrily at a passing insect and tripped on a root. “Bollocks,” he cursed under his breath. 

Hermione chuckled. “This spot will do nicely, I think.” She took a few more steps and laid out her blanket at the base of a large oak tree. 

“Do you always venture so far into the forest?” asked Draco. He sat down next to her on the blanket with as much regal dignity as he could muster. Between them, he set the picnic basket he had carried in and withdrew a bottle of elf-made wine and two glasses. 

“How do you think I found you?” Hermione quipped, reaching into her bag and producing a book. 

“I suppose I should be grateful for your intrepid spirit.” He poured them each a glass of wine and handed hers over. “What are we reading today?” 

“Twelfth Night.” 

“_ Another _ Shakespeare? Don’t you have any books written this century?” he asked with a smirk. 

Hermione blushed crimson. He was right. They had read three of Shakespeare’s plays since their courtship began. He always seemed to enjoy them though. Perhaps this was just one too many. She peered into her bag in search of other books. “I’m sorry, I thought—” 

He placed a finger under her chin, gently turning her head to face his. “I’m only joking, dear,” he said with a smile. His eyes flickered to Hermione’s mouth and her heart quickened. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss. She tilted her head up to return his affections earnestly. 

He pulled away and stretched out on the blanket, resting his head in her lap and gazing up at the lush canopy above them. “Please,” he urged. “Tell me all about the Twelfth Night.” 

With one hand, Hermione affectionately ran her fingers through his white-blond hair. She took a deep breath to quell the fluttering in her stomach and opened the book. “If music be the food of love, play on; give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, the appetite may sicken, and so die.—” 

~*~*~

_ Breathe _

Running her hands over the silken bodice of her dress, Hermione forced herself to take deep, even breaths. 

“Are you ready?” 

She turned to her right to see her father smiling broadly at her. One more breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before she nodded. “Ready.” 

Her father leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “You look beautiful, Hermione.” 

“Thank you, father.” Heart fluttering, she grinned and took his arm. “Is the whole kingdom in there?” she asked, voice wavering with her nerves. 

“Seems to be.” 

Despite her efforts to hide her nerves, her father must have seen the worry on her face. “Not to worry. You’ll do splendidly,” he reassured her.

Gripping her bouquet tighter, she nodded firmly. Her father reached up and pulled her thin veil over her face, straightening it out with tears in his eyes. 

With a great swell of music, the doors before them swung open and hundreds of people stood from their seats. She could feel all of their eyes on her, but she didn’t care. Her nerves were long forgotten. Draco was waiting for her at the end of the aisle with a bright smile and a lifetime of adventure in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr: graceful-lioness


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